


Tomb Raider : Underworld (A different game)

by jackass2016



Category: Tomb Raider & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Deepthroating, Double Penetration, F/M, Face Slapping, Face-Fucking, Gang Rape, Gangbang, Multi, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Non-Consensual Spanking, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Body Play, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Roughness, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 15:59:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9615164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackass2016/pseuds/jackass2016
Summary: This fic takes place during the events of Tomb Raider : Underworld . It is during a scene of the game with the se plot but different outcome .





	1. Part 1

Somewhere deep below the placid waves of the Mediterranean Sea dappled light shone through the darkness of a long abandoned tomb, highlighting dust motes in the dank air and casting warm shadows on the feminine curve of Lara Croft’s firm ass as she stalked cautiously towards a waist-high stone column in the middle of the high-ceilinged chamber. She was wearing a sexy black, yellow-striped wetsuit which clung to her curvaceous, athletic body like a second skin. Her full 36 D breasts strained against the top, the chill dank air of the tomb making her nipples erect and clearly visible beneath the thin rubbery material. A generous amount of cleavage was also on display since she had the zipper carelessly unzipped to only a few inches above her navel. But the outfit’s real treat was the way is showcased her perfectly toned and rounded ass-cheeks. With only a tiny pair of black bikini briefs covering the English adventuress’s modesty (which regularly crept up her ass as she performed her feats of gymnastic exploration, giving the tomb raider an uncomfortable, self-inflicted wedgie) her firm behind was on show to the world.

 

Luckily for Lara, no one was around to ogle her. Or so she thought.

 

On the stone column before her stood a black glove, glowing slightly in the flickering flamelight of the tomb. This is all too easy, Lara thought to herself as she surveyed the tomb’s architecture, taking in the Nordic statues of the thunder-god Thor flanked by vicious-looking stone serpents, her brilliant mind tracing the lines and curves of the ancient artisan’s work, already formulating a theory as to the possible mythic antecedents and academic implications of her new find.

 

Anticipating the praise she would no doubt soon be receiving from the archaeological community, the kudos her latest discovery would afford her in the eyes of her peers, Lara reached tentatively for the glove. As soon as she touched it however, most of the black material disintegrated into dust, leaving behind only a small, flat disc, roughly the size of Lara’s palm.

 

What the hell? Lara thought to herself, raising an eyebrow at the strange object as she turned it over in her palm. Ah well, nothing ventured...

 

She placed the disc on the back of her hand and immediately felt a surge of power course through her body. The disc glowed a strange deep blue and changed shape to wrap itself around her hand.

 

“Thor’s hammer Mjolnir was powerful enough to level mountains,” Lara thought out loud, inspecting the object now attached to her left hand, “but how does this all relate to Avalon?”

 

Before she could answer her question however, Lara heard a noise behind her. She spun round, hands reaching instinctively for her trusty pistols, only to be greeted by the sight of five heavily armed men in black wet-suits and scuba gear, their semiautomatic rifles trained on her midsection.

 

She froze.

 

“Put your hands on your head”, the lead mercenary ordered Lara in a gravelly, Irish-accented voice, “and turn around, slowly”.

 

Lara considered her options: five men with semi-automatics, mercenaries from the look of them, probably ex-IRA wet-works left out in the cold after the Irish peace accord, versus one sexy, tombraiding English aristocrat with a killer ass, pistols, and a spear gun.

 

She didn’t have a chance and she knew it. As much as she hated to admit it, these guys had got the drop on her.

 

Seething, Lara slowly raised her hands above her head. Her skin-tight wetsuit strained under the pressure of her full breasts pressing outwards, giving all five of the mercs a good eyeful of her hard nipples poking through the thin rubber. As she turned around five pairs of eyes made a collective downwards movement, taking in her taut, wet asscheeks glistening in the low light of the tomb, and her long beautifully toned legs.

 

Oblivious to the lustful gazes of her captors, Lara racked her brain for a plan. They’re just ignorant pay-per-kill mercenaries, she thought to herself. Just scum. There’s no way I’m going to let them get the better of me. Then it hit her.

 

“I don’t suppose you’d be open to bribery would you?”, she asked in a condescending tone, newly confident in her ability to turn the situation to her advantage. She was a multi-millionairess after all. She could buy off these thugs with pocket change.

 

The mercenaries stopped in their tracks, clearly intrigued by the idea of a trade-off, and Lara smiled smugly as she caught brief snatches of their mumbled conversation.

 

Just what I’d expect from a bunch of trained seals like this, she thought to herself. Throw them a few fish and they slap their flippers together in gratitude. I’ll be back on my yacht and home in Wimbledon in time for tea and crumpets.

 

“We’ll not take your money, Ms. Croft”, said the lead mercenary finally, “but from where I’m standing it seems as though you do have certain other... assets we might be interested in”.

 

Lara’s smug expression changed quickly to one of shocked outrage. Suddenly feeling very self-conscious about her choice of outfit she started to turn around, a tirade of abuse on her lips; but all she managed to get out was, “Why you dirty-minded little...”, before the lead mercenary, sensing his moment, moved in and cold-cocked her with the butt of his rifle.

 

“Ugh!” groaned Lara in surprise. She fell forward, collapsing on the floor like a very shapely sack of potatoes.

 

***

 

When Lara regained her senses the first thing she noticed was that the black disc was no longer moulded to the back of her left hand. The second thing she noticed was a large pair of male feet standing less than six inches away from her right hand. Looking left she saw another pair of feet, and another pair to her right--in all there were five pairs of feet surrounding her, all attached to some of the meanest looking scuba-suited mercenaries she’d ever seen. They were grinning down at her, clearly anticipating a few hours of R&R with the world-famous, blue-blood adventuress.

 

“You’re still here?” Lara spoke up as her head began slowly to clear. “Haven’t you already got what Amanda wants?” She brought a hand up to her head and winced at the pain. That’s going to leave a bump, she thought.

 

The men’s grins only widened.

 

“Yeah, we’ve got what the Commander wants. This little black disc piece of crap. Supposed to have magic powers of something. Who gives a shit?”, said the lead mercenary. “Should get us our next paycheque alright, and that’s about all I want from it. But me and my men, you see, well, we got other needs. Needs that don’t involve all this archaeology bullshit”.

 

“Yeah, we haven’t been on shore leave in weeks”, grunted the mercenary behind Lara.

 

“W-what’s that supposed to mean?”, Lara stuttered, uncharacteristically lacking a snappy comeback due to the fog still clouding her mind

 

The men laughed out loud.

 

“Well, what do you expect Ms. Croft? You run around in all these exotic locations, wearing your fucking skimpy outfits, shaking your tits and ass at anyone and everyone, acting like you’re God’s fucking gift to mankind with your English accent and your stuck-up attitude, and what? you expect us to just take the magic black disc off your hand and walk away, maybe plant some explosives in a half-assed attempt to seal you in here, accidentally leaving a convenient escape route so you can get back to your yacht, chase down our ship, sneak on board and kill the lot of us, sinking the ship in the process, and causing the Commander to fly off in a helicopter dangling an eight-foot-tall blond demi-god in a big fucking indestructible jam jar underneath?”

 

“Well, actually...”, began Lara.

 

“Not today, Ms. Croft”, interrupted the lead merc, “we’re playing a different game today”.

 

Lara took a moment to gather her senses, then a faint smirk began to spread across her beautiful face.

 

“Nice speech”, she quipped, “but don’t you think you’re coming on a little strong with this whole macho mercenary act? I hate to break this to you, but it’s not terribly convincing. And just to be clear on this”, she added, raising her eyebrow provocatively, “do you and your men actually have to call Amanda ‘Commander Amanda’?”.

 

Her confidence was starting to return now that the room had stopped spinning.

 

The leader frowned. Lara had hit a nerve. He’d always had issues with the fact that he had to answer to Amanda, a woman. The other four mercs shifted uncomfortably as their boss fumbled for a reply; but he couldn’t come up with anything. He was starting to get pissed. There was no way he was going to let this posh bitch make him look like a fool in front of his men.

 

“Stand up”, he ordered her brusquely.

 

Lara got to her feet. At 5” 9’ she was by no means a short woman, but the menacing circle of mercs surrounding her towered over her. If she was intimidated however, she wasn’t showing it. She rose to her full height and, raising her head defiantly, put her hands on her hips and glared up at the leader.

 

“You lay one finger on me, and I swear I’ll kill you”, she said. It wasn’t so much a threat as a statement of fact.

 

The leader narrowed his eyes for a moment, trying to judge the character of the seemingly fearless woman before him. Her arrogance pissed him off, but he had to admire her style. Here she was in the middle of nowhere, outnumbered five-to-one, surrounded by a bunch if horny men who had every intention of fucking her brains out, and she was practically daring him to to uch her. A smiled pulled at the corner of his mouth and he gave an almost imperceptible nod to the merc standing behind Lara.

 

Before she could react the man stepped forward and grabbed Lara in a vicelike bear hug, pinning her arms to her sides. He was about 6” 3’ and built like a tank. Lara snarled and thrashed around but found herself completely unable to break her assailant’s grip.

 

“Oh yeah baby, keep moving like that”, breathed the merc in her ear.

 

“Get your filthy hands off me, you bastard!”, hissed Lara, seething with rage as she felt his semi-erect cock pressing against her firm behind. The idea that her attempts to escape were giving this scum pleasure pissed Lara off no end, so she made a conscious effort to stand as still as possible, tensing every muscle in her sleek frame. Not that it did much good, since the merc holding her just started slowly grinding his cock between her tight ass-cheeks, enjoying the delicious friction provided by Lara’s wetsuit.

 

The leader grinned, and with exaggerated slowness raised his hand towards Lara’s angry face. Then, locking eyes with the furious adventuress, he very deliberately laid exactly one finger on her pouting lower lip, lightly massaging the plump, moist flesh in a slow circular motion before quickly pulling away when Lara tried to bite him.

 

“Now, now Ms. Croft”, he said sternly, sounding like a strict headmaster addressing an unruly pupil, “we’ll have none of that. We’re all going to be good friends here”.

 

Lara fumed. No one talked down to her like that. No one! She was Lara Croft, world famous tomb raider, the scourge of organised crime, conquerer of demi-gods. She’d been in far worse situations than this many times throughout her career, and she’d always emerged victorious. She had no reason to think that today would be any different.

 

“You’re a dead man”, she seethed, doing her best to ignore the throbbing cock rubbing slowly against her bum, “a dead man”.

 

“And you’re a stuck-up, tight-ass English bitch, Lara”, replied the leader, “it’s time for someone to take you down a peg or two”.

 

With that he took a step back and raised his rifle, holding a steady bead on Lara’s forehead.

 

“Let her go, Tiny”, he said to the merc holding Lara in a bear-hug. Rather reluctantly, the huge man let go and stepped back.

 

“Okay Ms. Croft, you know the routine”, said the leader, “put your hands behind your head and spread your legs”.

 

“You wish”, quipped Lara, unaccustomed to taking orders.

 

“I don’t wish, Ms. Croft, I act, and unless you want a hole in that pretty little head of yours I’d recommend that you do what I say and put your hands behind your head and spread your legs”, replied the leader, all business all of a sudden.

 

Lara didn’t have much of a choice. She was surrounded by five professional killers with itchy trigger fingers, and all she had to fall back on was her pistols. She’d be dead before she could draw; even Lara Croft wasn’t that fast. Still racking her brain for a plan to get out of this situation with at least some of her pride intact, she resigned herself to the indignity of being groped by these thugs, and assumed the position.

 

“She’s all yours, Tiny. Full body search”, said the leader, never taking his eyes off Lara’s

 

“Sure thing, Cap”, said Tiny. On days like this Tiny felt like he had the best job in the world.

 

Starting at her ankles Tiny ran his hands slowly up Lara’s long legs. Her skin was unbelievably soft and supple. This chick’s like peaches and cream, Tiny thought to himself as he admired the feminine curves of her calves, the subtle musculature of her smooth, creamy thighs. After trailing his fingers gently up the inside of Lara’s spread legs, he reached between her thighs and cupped and stroked her sex with surprising tenderness.

 

Throughout all of this Lara stood motionless, her fists clenched behind her head, every muscle in her body tensed, every nerve on edge. Her beautiful eyes were locked in a staring match with the leader of the mercs, her face a sexy mask of feminine fury. She was damned if she was going to let these low-lifes know how uncomfortable this was all making her.

 

Tiny moved his hands round to ‘search’ Lara’s full, firm gymnast’s ass, first tracing the line of her black bikini bottoms with his fingertips, then slowly brushing the back of his hand up between her perfectly formed buns. Next he slid two fingers underneath each cheek and jiggled them up and down a few times, admiring their fullness. Suddenly the merc changed tactic. Roughly grabbing Lara’s ass with both hands, he squeezed, hard. As his fingers sank slightly into Lara’s smooth, luscious flesh, he first pushed her cheeks together, then pulled them apart as though he wanted to get a better look at her asshole.

 

Before long Tiny’s rough handling of Lara’s ass caused her bikini bottoms to begin to bunch up, gradually disappearing between the pert globes of toned muscle. The merc decided to help them on their way by slipping two fingers underneath the thin material, one in each leg-hole, and pulling sharply upwards, giving Lara a wedgie more uncomfortable than any she’d ever experienced in all her days of acrobatic tomb raiding, and revealing a good deal more of her smooth, creamy skin to the merc’s lascivious gaze

 

For her part, Lara was demonstrating remarkable composure. Tiny had been working on her ass for a couple of minutes now, and the Captain had been watching her face like a hawk the whole time: she hadn’t so much as batted an eyelash.

 

“I’ll have to admit Ms. Croft, I’m impressed”, he said, “I guess this is what they call the British stiff upper lip. But seriously, who do you think you’re fooling? You know as well as I do that everyone’s got a breaking point. It’s only a matter of time before we reach yours. I mean, do you really think you’ll be able to keep up this stoic-heroic bullshit when you’re getting DP’ed with a cock stuffed down your throat?”

 

Lara didn’t know what to do. She wanted to curse a blue mile, rip off Tiny’s balls and feed them to the man stood in front of her. But she knew that one wrong move in this situation would have dire consequences for her. And this wasn’t how she wanted to die. These scumbags didn’t deserve to be the ones finally to do away with England’s richest, sexiest, most famous adventuress. Despite a growing feeling of desperation at the way things were headed, Lara was determined not to give these thugs the satisfaction of rising to their bait.

 

Just then however, Tiny planted a sharp slap on her ass.

 

SMACK!

 

Lara was caught off guard by the blow and before she could stop herself she gasped in surprise.

 

“So that’s your poison is it Ms. Croft?”, asked the Captain, enjoying Lara’s shocked expression, “a good old fashioned spanking? I should have known, what with you being such a prissy little bitch, always ordering people around because you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth. I bet all your life you’ve wanted someone to stand up to you, take control”.

 

He leaned in until his face was mere inches away from Lara’s, held her furious gaze for a moment, taking note of the beads of sweat that were starting to appear on her forehead, then said “Well today’s your lucky day, Ms Croft”.

 

Lara was finding it harder and harder to stay focused. Sandwiched between the heavy-handed brute behind her who was enthusiastically massaging every inch of her tender ass with his rough workman’s hands, and the taunting mercenary captain in front of her, whose insults were getting annoyingly close to the truth, her ability to hold her own in their battle of wills was being tested to its limit. In her distracted state of mind all she could come up with was, “Touch me again and I’ll...”

 

SMACK!

 

Tiny interrupted Lara mid-sentence by delivering another hard swat to her tight ass, causing her to gasp audibly. He then slid his hand down between her legs and cupped her sex from behind, rubbing two fingers slowly back and forth along the underside of her bikini bottoms. Cursing under her breath, Lara instinctively shifted her weight onto the balls of her feet and stood on her tiptoes in a vain attempt to avoid Tiny’s coaxing fingers. She couldn’t believe she was already starting to lose her composure.

 

“I don’t think you’ll be needing these”, said Tiny, lifting one of Lara’s trademark pistols from the holster on her thigh with his spare hand. He then removed his hand from her ass and relieved her of her other pistol, passing them both to one of the other mercs.

 

Next, the merc took Lara’s spear gun from off her back and reached around her waist to unbuckle her grenade belt.

 

“That’s quite an impressive arsenal you’ve got there, little lady”, he breathed in her ear, “if you’ll excuse the pun”, he added, helping himself to another handful of Lara’s firm behind.

 

Tiny unhooked Lara’s grapple-gun from the front of her wetsuit and was about to throw it on the floor when the Captain asked to see it. The mercs’ leader examined Lara’s nifty little gadget, turning it over in his hand, trying out the trigger/release mechanism. He pulled out a few inches of the long, supple cord, wrapped it around his fists and tested its strength.

 

“Very nice, Ms. Croft. But that’s what I’d expect from a rich slut like you. Only the best of the best is good enough for Lara Croft, isn’t it. Well, we’ll see if we can’t put this particular piece of equipment to a more, shall we say, agreeable use later on”, said the Captain, tucking the grapple-gun into his belt.

 

Tiny quickly found and discarded Lara’s PDA, crunching the expensive electronic gadget underfoot, then tossed her palm-sized digital camera to one of the other mercs, who flipped it open and started recording the encounter for posterity.

 

“Man, think how much we could sell this for, Cap”, he laughed, “a real-life assraider film. Then again, we’ll probably just upload it onto Porn Hub and let the whole world enjoy seeing this rich bitch getting fucked for free”.

 

Tiny moved in close behind Lara again, and, making sure she could feel his burgeoning erection throbbing against her tight ass, slowly started to move his hands up her rib-cage. Still stubbornly involved in her staring match with the Captain, Lara did her best to ignore the merc’s wandering hands as they explored her toned abs. But when Tiny gently cupped the underneath of her full, perfectly formed, 36-D breasts, squeezing them lightly through the thin material of her wet-suit, she felt the colour rise to her cheeks, turning the customary cool, alabaster skin of her face and neck a sexy shade pinker than usual. Lara hated to show any sign of weakness, but being made to blush in front of these scumbags was something she would never forgive. Then and there she made a promise to herself that not a single one of these bastards would be getting out of this tomb alive.

 

“Holy shit, Cap”, enthused the merc as he groped the fullness of Lara’s pert breasts, feeling the warmth of her skin radiating through the thin rubbery material of her wetsuit, “check out the fun bags on this bimbo!”.

 

After squeezing and fondling Lara’s perfect, teardrop shaped breasts for a minute or so, testing their weight and their firm-softness in his rough hands, all the while grinding his cock against her ass, Tiny started manipulating the tender buds of her erect nipples. First he flicked his index fingers quickly back and forth over the puckered little bumps in Lara’s wetsuit, stimulating the sensitive skin underneath. Then he took each nipple between his forefinger and thumb and gently pinched and rolled them to his heart’s content, occasionally pulling them cruelly outwards until Lara’s wetsuit separated from the moist skin of her breasts with a soft sucking sound and he momentarily lost his grip on the increasingly tender peaks of flesh, only to grab hold of them a second later and start the whole process over again, much to Lara’s chagrin.

 

“Alright Tiny, we haven’t got all day”, said the Captain after a while. Even though he was enjoying the show, especially watching the changing expressions on Lara’s beautiful, blushing face, his wet-suit was beginning to feel about three sizes too small around the crotch area. “I think it’s time we get down to the main event”.

 

Tiny grinned as he felt Lara tense up. She had actually been starting to relax slightly under his insistent fondling; and maybe it was just the way she was standing, with her hands clasped behind her head, back arched, and feet shoulder-width apart, but Tiny could have sworn he felt Lara pushing her chest outwards occasionally, filling his palms with her breasts as he groped her through her wetsuit, like a pet brushing up against its owner’s stroking hand.

 

“What do you say Ms. Croft? Are you ready to get fucked?”, asked the Captain as Tiny stepped away from Lara.

 

Lara didn’t reply. She was shaking visibly, her head hung low, staring at the ground.

 

“What’s the matter, bitch? No snappy retort?”, taunted the Captain, “I think maybe Tiny got you all worked up with all that attention. Looks like you’re fucking gagging for a good shagging”.

 

“You’re...”, started Lara; but she trailed off.

 

“I’m what, bitch? Oh, are you going to tell me I’m a dead man again? Pull the other one, love. I mean do you seriously...”

 

“You’re right”, said Lara softly, stopping the Captain in his tracks.

 

“What the fuck are you...”

 

“You’re right about everything”, she repeated, falling to her knees in front of the five mercs, “I’ve always wanted this. I’ve always wanted to be cornered, overpowered, taken by force and fucked by a bunch of horny men. That’s why I always wear these outfits, why I like to show off so much flesh”.

 

She reached out and placed her hands on the Captain’s muscular thighs for support.

 

“You were right about everything”, she said, looking up at the Captain with pleading eyes: “This is my fantasy”.

 

As she inched her hands up the captain’s thighs, moving them slowly towards the sizeable bulge in his skin-tight wetsuit, Lara said, “I want you to ride me at a gallop until my legs buckle and my eyes roll back in my head”.

 

She cupped his balls with one soft, feminine hand and started massaging them gently. With her other hand she tenderly caressed his bulging cock, tracing the outline of the swollen head with her fingernails, all the while staring up at him and speaking in her smooth English-accented voice:

 

“I’ve got muscles you’ve never even dreamed of”, she whispered, lightly teasing the underside of his penis with her fingernails, “I could squeeze you, make you harder than you’ve ever been before”.

 

Lara’s pouting lips gravitated towards the Captain’s bulge as she spoke; before long they were practically brushing against the outside of his wet-suit with every word she uttered.

 

“I could make you pop like warm champagne,” she intimated, her hot breath tickling the Captain’s straining cock, “You could cum in my mouth... on my face... on my tits... in my ass... I’d gladly take it... then I’d beg you to hurt me just a little bit more”.

 

She puckered her full, pouting lips and softly kissed the swollen head of his cock through the thin material of his wet-suit, holding the kiss for five of the longest seconds the Captain would ever experience in his life.

 

When Lara finally broke the kiss and moved her head back a couple of inches, a thin strand of saliva stretched from her plump lips to the Captain’s bulging crotch. You could have taken his pulse from five yards away.

 

“I’ll let you put it anywhere”, she whispered, staring up at him with hot, wicked eyes.

 

After a long moment the Captain managed to stutter out, “C-can I... I mean, can w-we, have... the sex now?”, his brain turned to mush by Lara’s attentions, adding “please?” as a rather pathetic afterthought.

 

Lara’s eyes turned to ice.

 

“You wish,” she said. And quick as a flash, she dropped her hand from between the Captain’s legs, made a fist, and delivered a solid uppercut to his nutsack.

 

The merc’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets; he let out a stifled scream of such plaintive tone that Lara almost felt sorry for him, and crumpled to the floor clutching his crotch.

 

Before he could even hit the ground Lara sprang into action. She picked up a handful of dirt and gravel from the floor of the tomb, spun round, and threw it in Tiny’s face, blinding the big man momentarily. Following the same trajectory of movement, Lara swung her body in a circle, planting one hand on the ground to centre her momentum. Keeping her head low and using her other hand to support her weight, she pushed her right leg outwards and upwards, executing a powerful handstand kick that connected with the chin of one of the three remaining mercs. Caught with his guard down, the hapless merc was almost knocked off his feet by the force of Lara’s foot; his head wrenched sideways and backwards at an unnatural angle and he staggered back, barely managing to stay on his feet, then fell flat on his ass.

 

The other two mercs started to raise their rifles, aiming them at Lara’s pirouetting form, but before either of them could pull the trigger, the Captain yelled “I want her alive!!”, his voice a couple of octaves higher than usual.

 

Taking advantage of their momentary confusion, Lara flipped to her feet, scanned her surroundings, then retreated back a couple of paces until she could feel the stone column on which she had found the glove behind her. She took up a loose fighting stance and waited for her opponents to make the next move.

 

The mercenaries sensed Lara’s hesitation, and, mistaking it for a sign of weakness, one of them charged at her full tilt, intending to tackle her to the ground.

 

But this was exactly what Lara had been waiting for. At the last possible moment she dodged to the side and the merc sailed past her, slamming headfirst into the solid stone column. He collapsed in a heap at Lara’s feet, barely conscious. Just to add insult to injury she placed her arched, elegant foot contemptuously on the back of his head and ground his face into the dirt.

 

Four down, one to go, she thought to herself.

 

“Okay, bitch”, said the last mercenary standing, “no more tricks. You want to get past me, you’re gonna have to fight me one on one, and there’s no fucking way I’m going down to a lightweight like you”.

 

The man was about six feet tall, solidly built, with chunky, brutal-looking shoulders, and the beginnings of a hard distended gut. He looked strong, mean, and pissed.

 

“Bring it on”, said Lara, adopting the mixed martial arts stance she’d developed over years of training.

 

The merc advanced on Lara in a tight boxer’s hunch, muscular arms guarding his head, elbows tucked into his ribcage. He threw a couple of left-handed jabs; Lara swayed backwards, easily avoiding the merc’s fist, then countered with a quick one-two double kick to her opponent’s body and head. The merc took the stinging kicks on the side of his left arm, then dropped his shoulder and swung a brutally powerful right-handed uppercut towards Lara’s stomach. She saw the telegraphed punch coming a mile off, shifted her weight onto the heel of her left foot and pirouetted backwards and sideways, dodging the merc’s fist, then driving her elbow down into the back of his exposed neck, targeting a nerve cluster that she knew would plunge her opponent into a world of hurt.

 

She wasn’t wrong. Blinding pain ricocheted down the merc’s spine, turning his legs to jelly. He fell face first onto the ground and curled up in the foetal position, his hands uselessly cradling the back of his neck.

 

Lara looked around for her pistols, but they were nowhere to be seen. She strode over to where the Captain was still scrambling around in the dirt, and picked up his semi-automatic rifle instead.

 

“Sorry boys”, said Lara, surveying the rather pathetic scene before her as all five of the mercenaries struggled to get to their feet, “Game over”.

 

She raised the rifle, aimed at the Captain’s head, and pulled the trigger...

 

And nothing happened.

 

“Shit”, Lara cursed under her breath. She checked the safety: it was off. She inspected the rifle to see whether it was jammed: it wasn’t.

 

She aimed at the Captain’s head and pulled the trigger again.

 

Again, nothing happened.

 

Noticing that the mercs were beginning to recover their senses, Lara panicked. Her only real advantage had been the element of surprise; with that gone, she didn’t like her chances. She dropped the rifle, turned, and sprinted for the exit. Before she could manage more than three strides however, she heard the unmistakable hiss of a compressed-gas canister being released behind her, and felt something strong and supple wrap itself around her left ankle. The thing pulled, hard, wrenching Lara’s leg out from underneath her, and she pitched forward, falling just short of the tomb’s exit. She looked down and saw a length of rope wrapped around her ankle. Following the rope back to its source Lara realised that she’d been brought down by her own grapple-gun, which was currently grasped firmly in the Captain’s hands.

 

The Captain pulled the trigger on Lara’s grapple gun and started reeling her in. His superior weight and strength gave him the advantage: Lara writhed on the floor, kicking and pulling at the rope, but try as she might she couldn’t halt her steady progress back towards the mercenaries. Before long she found herself back were she had started, surrounded by five very pissed off men.

 

“That was not allowed”, said the Captain, gingerly getting to his feet.

 

“No, but it was fun”, quipped Lara.

 

The rest of the mercs closed in around her.

 

“Shut up. Just don’t say another fucking word, okay”, warned the Captain as he picked up his rifle. “Shit, do you have any idea how painful it is to get hit in the balls like that?!”

 

“Well, since I’m a woman, and there are certain anatomical differences between men and...”

 

“Shut up. Shut up! Shut up!! Shut up!!!”

 

“I was only answering your...”

 

“Shut! The! Fuck! Up!! You!! Fucking!! English!!! Whore!!!!”, screamed the Captain, pointing his rifle at Lara’s head, veins bulging from his neck.

 

Lara looked up at the Captain with a bored expression on her face. She raised one elegantly defined, curved eyebrow and said, “I’m not deaf you know. There’s really no need to...”

 

“ARGHHH!!!”. The Captain fired his rifle into the air, raining dust and bits of plaster down on the group. He’d never been so infuriated by a woman in all his life. He didn’t know what he wanted to do more: kill her or fuck her. “Tiny, will you gag this bitch before I blow her fucking brains out”.

 

“Sure thing, Cap. But, er.. what should I use to gag her with?”

 

“I don’t fucking know! Fucking improvise for fuck’s sake!”

 

Tiny opened one of Lara’s medikits and rummaged around inside for a while before pulling out a long strip of bandage. Then, while two of the other mercs pinned Lara’s arms to the ground, he sat on her stomach and forced about half of the white material into her mouth, securing the gag by wrapping the excess bandage around her head several times, and tying it nice and tight behind her head.

 

“Mmmmmphhhhhh!”, mumbled Lara, “ooog ooo!”. She hated it when they gagged her.

 

“Thank fuck for that”, said the Captain, “I can finally hear myself think again”.

 

As he calmed down, taking in his newly dominant position over Lara, the Captain remembered the puzzled look that had flashed across her face when he’d fired his rifle.

 

“You didn’t see that coming, did you bitch?”, he gloated, “thought you had the lot of us over a barrel a minute ago, didn’t you? Lucky for us Amanda’s got some contacts in the arms trade. These rifles won’t fire unless they detect the user’s DNA on the trigger. And you ain’t the fucking user, bitch”, he added, firing off a few shots at the ground between Lara’s legs to prove his point.

 

Lara’s scrambled back, bumping into Tiny’s legs behind her, a genuinely fearful expression on her face for the first time since the encounter began.

 

“No, Ms. Croft”, continued the Captain, “You’ve been a very naughty girl. And do you know what happens to naughty girls?”

 

He leaned in and grabbed the back of Lara’s hair, pulled her head back sharply, and stared into her frightened eyes.

 

“They get punished”, he growled, then licked the sweat off her hot, trembling neck.

 

Lara looked up at the five mercenaries as they closed in around her: every one of them had a reason to hate her, and now every one of them had the perfect opportunity to fuck her.

 

Things were not looking good for our heroine.

 

End of Part One.


	2. Part 2

\---

 

SMACK!

 

Lara Croft was facing one of the most devastating situations she’d ever experienced in her life. On her latest quest to unravel the mysteries of Norse mythology and legend, she’d been caught off guard and captured by a group of five mercenaries. After suffering the indignity of being groped, mauled, and molested by the thugs, she’d blown her best chance of escape by underestimating her enemies’ ingenuity. Now she was paying the price for her overconfidence.

 

SMACK!

 

Using the cord from Lara’s own grapple-gun, the mercs had bound her to a waist-high stone column in the centre of the ornately decorated, high-ceilinged tomb. She was still wearing her wetsuit, but the bikini briefs that made up the lower half of her outfit had virtually disappeared between her taut ass-cheeks, providing about as much protection to Lara’s modesty as a tiny black thong would have. Her ankles were tied together at the bottom of one side of the column, as were her wrists at the bottom of the other side. Her toned, supple body was almost bent double over the top of the column, her ass pushed high in the air, exposed and vulnerable. Forced to stand on her tiptoes just to alleviate some of the pressure on her torso, Lara looked like she was performing an advanced gymnastic stretch. A length of the strong, supple cord circled the circumference of the column several times, connecting her tied ankles to her tied wrists, forcing her to hold the uncomfortable position indefinitely. It was lucky Lara was in such good shape, otherwise her strict bondage would be near unbearable; even as it was she was feeling the burn. Of course, what her captors were doing wasn’t helping matters.

 

SMACK!

 

The Captain planted another hard swat on Lara’s exposed ass, causing her already reddening bum cheeks to jiggle slightly. Lara winced and bit into her gag, droplets of sweat beading on her forehead.

 

“And that was for your fucking stuck-up English attitude, Lara”, said the captain as he massaged one cheek of his captive’s tender ass. “Now, what else about you pisses me off?”, he continued, “Oh right, yeah, how about the fact that less than five minutes ago you very nearly killed the lot of us?”

 

SWACK!

 

“That wasn’t particularly sporting of you was it, Lady Croft?”, he asked, grabbing a handful of Lara’s hair and pulling her head up cruelly, forcing her to arch her back and stick her bum out even more. Holding her in that position he spanked her again, harder

 

WHAP!

 

Then he leaned in, made eye contact with his captive and started taunting her, all the while working his middle finger insistently up and down between her legs, stimulating Lara’s pussy through her wetsuit:

 

“If only all those posh fucking privileged upper-class ponces you hang about with could see you now, eh, Lara. What would they think seeing you getting fucked by a bunch of Irish mercenaries? I’d wager it wouldn’t do your standing at the country club much good, would it, you rich bitch”.

 

SMACK!

 

Lara’s nostril’s flared as the Captain's palm stung her quivering ass cheeks again. She forced herself to stay quiet however. She knew her tormenter wanted to make her cry out in pain and frustration, but the remnants of her tattered pride still fought against the impulse; she refused to give him the satisfaction.

 

“Oh wait, they will be able to see you, once we post this video up on the internet”, he continued, “Who knows? maybe we’ll even send a copy to The Sun or The Daily Star, and you know what those tabloid bastards are like. You’ll be front page news, Lara. I can see the headlines: Tomb Raider’s Tomb Gets Raided”.

 

SMACK!

 

“Come on Lady Croft”, taunted the Captain as he motioned for Jenkins, the merc recording the scene on Lara’s palm-sized camcorder, to move in for a better shot, “smile for the camera”.

 

Jenkins panned slowly over Lara’s curvaceous form as she quivered in her strict, uncomfortable bondage. Starting with a close-up of her arched feet he moved slowly up her long, toned legs, taking in her flexing calves and her smooth round thighs, which were pressed close together and trembled slightly as Lara strained on her tiptoes to minimise the pressure on her lower back. Enjoying the way the stone column forced Lara to push her bum upwards and outwards, as though she were presenting her ass for his inspection, the merc planted a few playful swats of his own on her tenderised behind, filming the toned globes of flesh as they jiggled just the right amount. Then he panned along Lara’s sexily arched back, and down towards her straining neck as the Captain maintained his firm grip on her ponytail, finally zooming in on her furious gagged face, taking in the strands of dark wet hair clinging to her brow.

 

SMAP!

 

Lara fumed and blushed deep red as the Captain spanked her ass yet again, eliciting another round of raucous laughter from the rest of the mercs. The fact that her captors were recording the proceedings, one of them grinning like an idiot as he shoved the camera in Lara’s face, only added to her humiliation. But worst of all--and this was a bitter pill to swallow for the fearless adventuress--for almost the first time in her entire life, Lara felt powerless.

 

She’d always prided herself on being a strong, independantly-minded woman, able to cope with almost any situation that the dangerous world of tomb raiding could, and regularly would, throw her way. And she’d always harboured a secret self-conceit about her curvaceous, athletic body and her stunning good-looks. Even when she wasn’t actively tomb raiding she liked to keep herself in peak physical condition, working out six days a week in her fully-fitted private gym. She loved the way her naked body looked in the mirror, drenched and glistening from the long hot shower she’d invariably take after her strenuous gymnastic exercise routine. And, although she’d never admit it, she’d always feel a special tingle of excitement when she walked into a room and all the men’s heads would turn her way. Sometimes she could almost feel their collective gaze admiring her svelte figure, and she’d smile inwardly, maybe sashay her hips just a little more than usual, teasing her captive audience with a subtle display of her sexual prowess, but fully intending to turn down anyone impertinent enough to make a pass at her. She often got an even bigger kick out of the way most of the women in the room would narrow their eyes when they saw her in one of her low-cut formfitting evening gowns, how they’d occasionally kick their distracted male companions under the table, clearly jealous of Lara’s grace and beauty.

 

But now, it was almost as if the mercenaries were turning Lara’s body against her, deriving pleasure from defiling the perfectly toned curves she’d worked so hard to develop over years of training.

 

Plus, her ass was really burning. What with all the spanking.

 

WHAP!

 

“Okay, Lara. We’re almost ready for the next stage”, said the Captain as he ran his palm over Lara’s glowing derriere; “You know, I bet I could fry an egg on your ass right now, if I wanted to”, he mused, almost to himself. Lara wiggled her hips angrily in a vain attempt to dislodge his rough hand.

 

“But before we move on, there’s just one more thing we have to take care of”. The Captain gave Lara’s hot, tender ass a final squeeze then moved behind her, disappearing from her field of vision.

 

“Tiny, throw us that will you mate”, he said.

 

“What, this?”, Tiny replied, sounding a little surprised, “don’t take this the wrong way Cap, but don’t you think that’s going a bit far? I mean...”

 

“No Tiny, I don’t”, interrupted the Captain. “This bitch socking me in the family jewels is what I’d call going a bit far. This, I’d call payback”.

 

Lara strained her neck, trying to catch a glimpse of what was going on behind her, but the stone column blocked her view.

 

“Here, you’d better hold onto these”, said the Captain. “Might prove to be a bit of a safety hazard otherwise”.

 

Lara pulled at her restraints, becoming more and more anxious as the mercs behind her chuckled. The suspense was killing her.

 

When the Captain finally re-entered her line of sight, holding in his right hand Lara’s thick leather grenade belt, her eyes went wide.

 

“Nmmmmmphhh!”, she mumbled into her gag, shaking her head back and forth, “Ummmmph! Nmmmmphh! Mmmmmmphh!”.

 

“What’s that Lara? you want me to spank you on the ass with your own grenade belt? Why, I had no idea you were such a kinky little slut”, mocked the Captain as he doubled up the belt in his hands and tried out a few practice swipes through the air.

 

Lara steeled herself when she saw her tormentor’s gleeful expression. She knew begging wouldn’t help her here; these bastards didn’t even seem to know the meaning of the word mercy.

 

When the Captain was satisfied with his swing, he addressed Lara:

 

“Now you may think I’m doing this to pay you back for whacking me in the nuts, Lara, but I’m so over that. Actually ball-kicking, or Kenmari Hajime, is considered a fetish in some sub-genres of Japanese pornography. But I digress. No, the reason why I’ll shortly be strapping your ass until it glows like a three-bar electric fire, is that your latest game just wasn’t up to scratch”.

 

Lara’s expression changed from one of fear and loathing to a kind of confusion. What the hell does he mean, my latest game? she thought to herself. But before she could come up with an answer, the Captain brought the belt down hard on her exposed behind:

 

THWAPP!!

 

“Unnnnnnnnnhhhhhhhh!”, Lara cried out in pain and surprise, biting down on her gag and wincing as the thick leather belt punished her ass.

 

“For one thing”, started the Captain, “what happened to the playable manor? I mean call me old-fashioned but I used get a kick out of running around in there, checking out the grounds, the swimming pool, your bedroom”.

 

My bedroom? how could he have seen my bedroom? Lara asked herself, her distracted mind fighting through the pain, trying in vain to understand the rantings of the man mercilessly assaulting her tender ass. But once again the Captain interrupted her train of thought with another sound punishing smack on the bum:

 

THWACK!!

 

“Nnnnnnnnghhhhhhh!”, Lara moaned into her gag. The last thing she wanted to do was let this sadistic bastard know how much he was hurting her, but the pain was unbearable. The sharp, stinging blows caught her by surprise and forced her to cry out every time.

 

“And another thing”, continued the Captain, his blood boiling as he meted out Lara’s punishment, “where are all the unlockable outfits, Lara? It was hot playing dress-up in Legend, but what do we get now? one fucking white swimsuit? Not nearly good enough”. He took a long, drawn-out back-swing, relishing the sight of his captive’s smooth ass cheeks quivering in front of him, then swished the belt forward as hard as he could, really letting Lara taste the leather:

 

THWAPP!!

 

“Mnnnnnnghhhhhhhhhh!!”, Lara cried out in frustration. Her ass felt like it was on fire. If it wasn’t for the clump of wet bandages shoved in her mouth, she’d be cursing a blue mile, ripping into the Captain and his men with language that would make even an army drill-sergeant run for cover. And what was this maniac ranting about, anyway? Bloody unlockable outfits? playing dress-up? She couldn’t believe she was at the mercy of someone who was so clearly out of his mind.

 

“And here’s a few more, Lara”, growled the Captain, losing himself in the heady experience of dominating the world famous tomb raider, “just in case I forgot something in all this excitement”.

 

And he let loose, belting Lara’s firm buttocks one, two, three more times in quick succession, each blow more powerful and, to Lara, more painful than the last. Lara cried out in desperation and yelped as the blows landed. Her sleek, sweat-drenched body convulsed uncontrollably, twisting and straining against the cord of her grapple-gun. The mercs had done a good job tying her up though; try as she might she couldn’t move more than an inch or two in any direction.

 

When the Captain finally halted his cruel assault on her ass, Lara slouched panting against the stone column, nostrils flaring, droplets of sweat dripping from her chin. She tried to say “Please, no more... I’ll do anything... please stop”, but all that came from her gagged mouth was an unintelligible mumble.

 

The Captain was breathing almost as hard as his captive. It was such a turn on to see Lara Croft, the woman who had single-handedly floored him and his entire squad just a short while ago, now weak and submissive before him, whimpering like a punished schoolgirl. The temptation to rip off her wetsuit and fuck her tight pussy right then and there was almost irresistible; but he knew this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. He wanted to take things slow, make the most of the next few hours by drawing out the encounter, maximising Lara’s humiliation.

 

He popped the cap off his water canteen and poured about half its contents over Lara’s glowing ass, causing the smooth contours of her hips and upper thighs to shimmer and glisten in the soft low-light of the tomb.

 

“Sorry about that, Lara,” he said, calming down, “I just had to work out a few frustrations. I’m sure you understand”.

 

Lara didn’t even attempt a reply. The cool water from the Captain’s canteen first chilled then soothed her throbbing bum, then trickled warmly down between her thighs. The relief was heavenly. It was all she could do to stop herself from peeing.

 

As Lara slowly recovered from her strapping, the Captain pulled a serrated-edged survival knife from his belt and cut the bandage from around her head. Then, holding her chin in one hand, he forced his fingers past her full, glossy lips and pulled out the rest of the soggy white fabric. Lara was so disoriented after the brutal assault on her ass that she almost thanked him for removing the gag. But when her vision cleared and she saw the Captain’s stubbly face grinning down at her, she came to her senses.

 

“Y-you sick bastard”, she stuttered weakly, “you’ll pay for this, I swear”.

 

The Captain cupped Lara’s chin, tilted her face up, and kissed her full on the mouth. Lara’s eyes went wide with dismay. She tried to move her head, break the kiss, but her captor maintained his firm grip on her jaw, holding her steady as he thrust his tongue between her lips and explored every inch of her sweet, salt mouth. When he pulled back Lara was livid.

 

“You scum!”, she hissed, then spat in his face, “degenerate pig!”.

 

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Ms Croft”, smiled the Captain, savouring Lara’s taste on his tongue. Then he addressed the rest of the mercs over his shoulder: “Come on lads, help me reposition this little minx”.

 

The five men surrounded Lara, towering over her prostrate figure, a couple of them already massaging sizeable bulges through their wetsuits. The Captain looked down on his captive and said: “I think it’s time we put that smart little mouth of yours to a more practical use, Lara”.

 

***

 

The five mercs made short work of untying their captive, who was still hot and weakened from her ordeal. Following the Captain’s instructions they forced Lara to kneel in front of the stone column. Then, as each one of the mercs took full advantage of Lara’s submissive weakness--palming her 36-D breasts through her wetsuit, grabbing handfuls of her tight curvaceous ass, running their hands over the smooth skin of her long toned legs--they tied her up in her new position. Throughout the whole process Lara cursed and threatened the men, attempting weakly to push away their wandering hands. But her protests seemed only to encourage her captors. As she blushed and hissed expletives the mercs groped her luscious curves more and more enthusiastically, planting playful swats on her tender behind and slapping her boobs just to watch them jiggle.

 

Lara couldn’t help but be reminded of her last trip to Japan, when she’d made the mistake of wearing a pair of her trademark short-shorts on board a Tokyo commuter train during rush hour.

 

A couple of minutes later the mercs were putting the finishing touches to Lara’s bondage, double-checking the knots and tightening the cords. Then they stood back and admired their handiwork.

 

Lara was on her knees, with her back pressed firmly against the cold stone column. Her arms were wrenched back around the column’s circumference, forcing her to arch her back and push her breasts out, and her wrists were tied tight together with the cord from her grapple gun. Her legs were no less painfully pulled back around the column, tied at the ankles and bent backwards and upwards at the knees towards her wrists, forcing Lara to bear almost her entire body weight on her knees. Her body was so strictly restrained that it looked like she’d been hog-tied in a vertical position. A taut length of cord no more than four inches long connected Lara’s tied wrists to her tied ankles, taking any slack out of her sleek toned frame, testing her to the limits of her impressive flexibility. Just to make matters worse, the floor was solid unforgiving rock, and Lara could already feel her body weight pressing down uncomfortably on her knees, bits of grit and gravel pushing painfully into her skin. The position the mercs had tied her in previously seemed like a fond memory compared with this one.

 

“I-if you and your men let me go right now, I’ll let you live”, stammered Lara, glaring up at the Captain defiantly.

 

He responded by unzipping the zipper on his wetsuit. Staring down at Lara he peeled the rubbery material off his skin, revealing a well-muscled but hairy and neanderthal-like torso.

 

“I’m giving you fair warning, Captain”, Lara repeated, “I-if you continue with this outrage I won’t be held responsible for my actions”.

 

Despite her bravado, Lara felt a sickening sensation of panic bubbling up from the pit of her stomach. She was running out of ideas, fast.

 

The Captain bent his knees and leaned in towards his captive, getting right up in her face. “Very intimidating, Lara”, he said, “but maybe you should try again without the st-st-stutter”. He reached behind Lara’s head and pulled out her hair-band, allowing her thick luscious hair to tumble down over her shoulders. It framed her furious face in a silky border of dark brown gossamer. He gently pushed a few loose tresses back behind her left ear.

 

“Why Ms. Croft”, he smiled, “you’re beautiful”.

 

“Goddamnit, think about this, Captain”, said Lara coldly, her voice betraying only the faintest quaver of fear as she made a last ditch attempt at intimidation: “do you really want to spend the rest of your days looking over your shoulder, starting at every unexpected noise, waiting for the bullet that you’ll always know is coming? Because I swear by the gods, if you don’t let me go right now, I will hunt you down. I will find you and your men and I will kill every last one of you in ways more painful than you can... Wait! Stop that! No!”

 

Lara broke off mid-sentence when the Captain reached up, took hold of her wetsuit zipper and started slowly pulling it down between her breasts. Her arched back made her breasts strain against the confines of her skin-tight wetsuit, so by the time the zipper was halfway down her stomach, a large expanse of soft white cleavage had already thrust its way out of her top. The Captain pulled the zipper down until he could see Lara’s cute little pink belly-button, all the while ignoring her increasingly pathetic threats and pleas, then he stopped, taking time to fully appreciate the sight before him.

 

Lara’s full 36-D breasts threatened to burst the confines of her unzipped wetsuit. Barely hidden by the thin rubbery material any longer, they sat firm and proud on her chest, seeming to defy gravity without even the slightest indication of sag. About half of Lara’s left nipple, pink and erect, pushed its way out from under her wetsuit’s zipper, which dug into the soft skin of her breast, pinching Lara’s aureole uncomfortably in its sharp plastic teeth.

 

“Don’t you dare”, warned Lara, watching the Captain as he rubbed his palms together, captivated by the sight of her smooth generous mounds.

 

Ignoring Lara’s protests he slipped both his hands under her wetsuit. After exploring her midriff, making Lara flinch and grit her teeth as his hands caressed the smooth supple skin of her toned belly, he began inching his way up her ribcage. Lara pulled at her restraints, cursing and trembling in anger and humiliation, but all to no avail: the Captain cupped the underside of her perfectly formed teardrop-shaped breasts in his palms and started working his thumbs over her erect nipples, rubbing the sensitive pink buds in a slow circular motion.

 

“Very nice, Ms Croft”, he said as he pushed Lara’s wetsuit back over her shoulders, revealing her naked breasts to the eager eyes of the four other mercs, “Very nice indeed. But I have to ask, are they real?”.

 

Lara fumed, pulling at her restraints in a fruitless attempt to avoid the Captain’s rough hands. She refused to dignify his impertinent question with an answer, and just glared furiously at the man massaging her breasts. How dare he insinuate that she might have implants?! She’d killed men for less!

 

“Just kidding, Lara”, he grinned, pinching her nipples and rolling them between his forefingers and thumbs, making Lara wince and gasp, “no need to get your knickers in a twist”.

 

“You filth!”, hissed Lara, “take your sodding hands off me this instant, or I’ll make you wish you had never been born!”

 

The Captain laughed out loud.

 

He had to admire her spirit. Amanda had warned him about her arrogance, about how her over-inflated ego would never allow her to give up or admit defeat. It was understandable really. He’d heard stories over the years about how this bitch had dealt with her past enemies. Not a lot of men had walked away from an encounter with her, but those that had seemed scared shitless by the experience. She was bullet-proof, they’d say; she seemed to be everywhere at once, fast as lightning and deadly as sin. In her time she’d supposedly taken down some of the biggest names in the criminal underworld.

 

Of course, he’d always taken the tales with a pinch of salt until now, never really believing that a mere woman could be such a worthy opponent. But the stories had gotten one thing right. She was the hottest piece of ass he’d seen in a long time. And here she was, tied up in a tomb fifty feet under the Mediterranean sea, half naked in front of five men who had absolutely no qualms about doing all kinds of nasty things to her ripe little body, and she still refused to tone down her haughty upper-class attitude one bit. That made two things the stories had gotten right.

 

Taming her was going to be a lot of fun.

 

He gave her full breasts a final squeeze, her erect nipples a final hard pinch, causing Lara to clamp her jaw down and flare her nostrils in frustration, then he stood up, positioning his bulging crotch directly in front of her face.

 

“Look, Lara”, he said pulling his wetsuit’s zipper down below his navel, “I’ve got the fucking SAS on my ass for things I did back in the day. Me and my men have slotted commandos from the royal fucking latrines in our time”; Lara turned her head away in disgust as the Captain revealed the thick wiry pubic hair above his crotch; he continued: “Do you really think that some prancing posh bitch with a pistol fetish and a PhD in archaeology in going to intimidate me?”.

 

He punctuated the end of his sentence by pulling his wetsuit down over his buttocks, releasing his solidly erect nine-inch cock, which sprang up and slapped Lara full in the face.

 

“Ugh!”, Lara cried out in protest, “get that away from me you disgusting pig!”.

 

“Yeah, yeah”, smiled the Captain, “you know you love it really”.

 

He grabbed a handful of Lara’s thick luscious hair and forced her to turn her head until she was facing his erection. Then holding her in that position, he grasped the base of his cock in his other hand and started wiping the swollen head all over Lara’s face, paying particular attention to her full pouting lips, and her high cheekbones.

 

“Besides”, he said, relishing the look of indignation and disgust on Lara’s beautiful face, “after we’re through with you here, we’ll probably just hand you over to your old pal Amanda”. He noticed the subtle musculature of Lara’s neck tauten at the mention of her onetime best friend.

 

“You don’t like the sound of that do you, Lara?”, he taunted, “But we will, you know. If you don’t behave yourself. And just between you and me, the commander’s got a real yen to pay you back for stealing that big old magical sword of hers last year”.

 

He wiped the head of his cock slowly back and forth along Lara’s plump lower lip a few times, then held it under her flaring nostrils, making sure she got a good whiff of his scent. She strained against his hand, trying desperately to turn away from his erect penis; but he held her firmly in place, lightly slapping the underside of his member against her soft cheeks a few times, enjoying the velvety texture of her smooth skin.

 

“Yeah”, he continued, “I’m sure that dyke bitch will come up with all kinds of kinky ways to keep you entertained”. He smeared pre-cum along the line of Lara’s jaw, then rubbed his cock firmly over her chin, grazing the soft sensitive skin of her upper throat.

 

Lara couldn’t believe what was happening. She’d never experienced such a detestable situation in all her life. This kind of thing just didn’t happen to girls like her. She was the Countess of Abbington, for Pete’s sake, the world-renowned Tomb Raider; this was beneath her!

 

Sure, during her past adventures she’d been tied up and gagged by all manner of deranged miscreants bent on world domination or some equally ridiculous scheme of similarly unfeasible scale. Some of her kinkier female nemeses had even threatened her with whips and riding crops. But they would always maintain a certain degree of decorum: they knew their place. Lara was the heroine and they were the villains. They were supposed to strut around in front of her, spouting some grandiose vaniloquent boast about how they planned to use so-and-so’s talisman of such-and-such to summon what’s-his-name from the burning pits of wherever-the-hell, thereby fulfilling the ancient prophecy of who’s-his-face and bringing about the end of civilisation as we know it.

 

They certainly weren’t supposed to tie her up and slap their dicks on her face; it was just so unseemly. It made her feel like... like a common whore. What use was all her money, all her equipment, all the years of training during which she’d honed her body and sharpened her senses, if she couldn’t even take down a bunch of low-rent mercenaries? She felt weak, foolish. She felt like a spoilt little rich girl stripped naked in a man’s world, exposed for the fraud she’d always been. She felt like she’d failed.

 

No, what was she thinking?! She was Lara Croft. And Lara Croft never gave up!

 

She had to believe in herself. She had to stay focused, remain optimistic. Deep down she had to trust that the situation might turn on its head at any moment. Maybe Zip or Alister or, hell, even Winston would rush in in the nick of time, providing just enough distraction for her to get free, then if she could just get to her trusty pistols she’d teach these bastards a lesson they’d never forget!

 

That hope was all that Lara had left to hold onto.

 

“Unless she just kills you of course”, continued the Captain, jolting Lara from her reverie. He grinned down at his captive, pushing his cock into a handful of her smooth silky hair, masturbating himself slowly in her soft, luxurious tresses.

 

“Either way, love, your future isn’t looking particularly rosy is it?”, he taunted, “In fact I’d go as far as saying that your prospects suck. See what I did there?”

 

Lara knew what was coming.

 

The Captain thrust his hips forwards, pushing the bulbous head of his erection up against her lips; she clamped her jaw down tightly and glared up at him with rebellious eyes. She was damned if she was going to let this common thug force his cock into her mouth.

 

After a few more failed attempts at gaining entrance to Lara’s mouth, which weren’t exactly unpleasant for the Captain--rubbing the sensitive head of his member all over Lara Croft’s full, glossy lips was actually a lot of fun--he decided to try another tack.

 

“Fine, fine” he said, pulling back a couple of inches, “if you don’t want to play, we’ll just have to take you back to the ship and feed you to Natla. Well, she probably won’t eat you. At least, not right away”.

 

“Natla’s alive?!”, gasped Lara, genuinely shocked by the Captain’s revelation, “after all these year?! But how is that... Mmmmbbblllmmm!!”

 

“Ooohh, yeah...”, groaned the Captain as he shoved his member past Lara’s plump lips and into her mouth. Her eyes widened in dismay. Instinctively she tried to move back, but succeeded only in banging her head painfully against the stone column behind her. That, combined with the Captain’s firm hold on her hair, gave her almost no room for manoeuvre. She was quite literally stuck between a rock and a hard place.

 

For a few moments the Captain just stood there, staring down at Lara, transfixed by the sight of her full wet lips as they stretched around the circumference of his cock, forming a near-perfect pouting red circle around the middle of the shaft. Then he started pumping his hips slowly back and forth, sliding gradually more and more of his hard member into Lara’s mouth with each thrust.

 

“I can’t believe you fell for that, Lara”, he smirked down at his captive, “then again, maybe you didn’t. Maybe this is what you wanted”.

 

Seething, Lara glared up at her captor as he slowly fucked her mouth. She wanted desperately to hurt him, to bite down on his penis, but a quick glance around the tomb warned her against it. The mercs seemed to have learnt their lesson. Despite her strict bondage, the men trained no fewer than two rifles on their captive at all times. One wrong move here would have dire consequences for Lara. For the time being at least, she would just have to feign submission, bide her time and wait for them to make a mistake.

 

The Captain began increasing the speed and force of his thrusts. He pumped first five, then six inches of his shaft between Lara’s lips, backing up her throat with the head of his cock. Lara tried to suppress her gag reflex, swallowing in time with the Captain’s strokes, but the stress of bearing her whole bodyweight on her knees for the past ten minutes--combined with the stringent bondage that forced her body to retain un unnatural bow-like posture--was beginning to take its toll on her concentration. She could already feel herself beginning to retch slightly every time his cock slid over the back of her tongue.

 

Sensing Lara’s discomfort, the Captain grabbed hold of her head with both hands and started force-feeding her all nine inches of his cock, sometimes pausing for several seconds with his entire shaft enveloped in her hot mouth, making her protest audibly, choking and gurgling on his hard member; sometimes throat-fucking her at a steady pace of one stroke per second for up to a minute at a time; sometimes mixing things up by going slow for twenty seconds, moving his cock back and forth an inch at a time over the back of Lara’s tongue, then pulling out until the swollen head appeared between her pouting lips and plunging back in, thrusting the entire length of his shaft down her hot tight throat over and over again.

 

After enduring ten long minutes of this rough and unpredictable deepthroating Lara was beginning to feel the strain. She was having trouble timing her breathing with his irregular rhythm, coughing and spluttering as thick saliva built up in her mouth and got pushed down her throat by her captor’s powerful strokes.

 

The Captain, on the other hand, was having the time of his life. He couldn’t believe how good it felt, throat fucking the proud and defiant Lara Croft as she knelt before him, clearly struggling to keep up with his unrelenting pace. He especially liked the way her thick, pouting lips wrapped themselves tightly around his shaft as he pushed it into her mouth, collecting a thin layer of saliva from the outside of his glistening member with each stroke, which gradually built up and started drooling down over her chin, dripping onto her pert jiggling breasts in long elasticated strings.

 

He took great pleasure in watching Lara as she choked and gagged on his thick cock. Stuck-up attitude not withstanding, he had to admit that she was everything he’d always wanted in a woman: strong, smart, fearless, and most importantly, hot as hell. He almost liked her, in his own rapist-Irish-mercenary kind of way.

 

But when he looked down into her big, brown almond eyes all he saw there was an expression of such utter contempt--as though, even in these circumstances, she still considered herself to be above him--that he felt himself losing control. He was going to teach this bitch some respect.

 

Gathering up a handful of her thick glossy hair, he thrust his hips forward and forced his shaft all the way down her throat. Then, holding her down on his cock, he pinched her nose between his forefinger and thumb.

 

“Suck it good, you fucking haughty bitch”, he sneered down at the woman beneath him.

 

Lara felt a surge of panic when the Captain cut off her air supply. Did this bastard’s sadism know no bounds? It took all her composure just to maintain eye contact with him as he grinned down at her, obviously studying her face for any sign of a reaction. She glared back at him with as much venom as she could muster; but as the seconds ticked by and he showed no sign of letting her up, she began to feel an overwhelming sense of desperation building up inside her. What if he never let go?! What if he really wanted to suffocate her?! Lara realised there was nothing she could do about it. She couldn’t even beg him. And she almost wished that she could. As much as she hated to admit it, she was being tested to the limits of her resolve. The mask of her bravery was beginning to crumble.

 

The Captain was having his endurance tested in another, more pleasurable, way. As Lara retched on his shaft, convulsing the muscles of her neck in an instinctive gag reflex, the hot slippery surface of the inside of her throat softly massaged his sensitive member, coaxing him ever closer to orgasm. In fact, he was having a hard time just holding onto his load. Her throat grasped his cock as tight as any pussy he’d ever fucked, pulsating with heat and contracting with every spasm of her frustrated attempts to breathe. He didn't plan on letting her up anytime soon; it felt way too good.

 

After a full minute of choking Lara on his thick pole the Captain started to feel her straining against his hand, trembling as she tried to pull back from the foreign body obstructing her airway. Her jerky movements sent jolts of pleasure down his shaft. As she slowly suffocated below him his whole cock tingled in the wet flexing interior of her throat, making every second of Lara's suffering into a moment of sensory bliss for the Captain, and sending delicious shudders of pleasure all the way to the base of his spine. He could feel his balls swelling in readiness for an enormous release. He couldn’t take much more of this.

 

"Awww, yeah!", he groaned, rotating his hips round and round, stirring the head of his cock slowly in the depths of his captive's throat. As he did so, a sickening feeling of nausea ran through Lara's body, and she dry-heaved uselessly as the Captain's thick penis stretched out her esophagus. As if that wasn't bad enough, her painfully restricted legs were beginning to cramp up. Her calves and the muscles along the backs of her thighs were contracting excruciatingly and Lara's strict bondage offered her no respite from the searing pain. But worst of all was the primal sense of dread that gripped her mind as her overtaxed body gradually ran out of oxygen. Lara hadn't been able to take a proper breath before the Captain had closed up her nostrils, and now her lungs felt like a thousand sharp pins were sticking into them every second. It took every ounce of her self control to stifle the cries of agony and frustration that were building up inside her. But she absolutely refused to give in. It was now a matter of personal pride.

 

After nearly two and a half minutes of holding Lara down on his cock the Captain looked into her fluttering eyes and saw that she could sense his approaching orgasm. But she didn’t seem scared. If anything she looked more determined than ever. It was almost as if she was goading him, rubbing his face in the fact that she could outlast him, that she could hold her breath for longer than he could hold back from blowing his load.

 

At the three minute mark Lara won the smallest of victories when the Captain was forced to pull back into her mouth and let go of her nose. He couldn’t have resisted another second of that exquisite torture, and he wasn’t ready to cum yet. There was still so much to do.

 

As Lara gasped in precious oxygen through her flaring nostrils he calmed himself down by tilting her head to one side and bulging out her cheek with the sensitive head of his cock. Then he softly wiped his thumb along the lower lid of her left eye, collecting up the liquid that swelled there.

 

“That’s what I like to see, Lara”, he grinned down at her, “nothing like a good bit of deepthroating to get a girl tearing up”. He licked his thumb and savoured the salty taste of Lara’s tears.

 

“Or maybe you’re just feeling a little emotional?”, he asked condescendingly, “maybe the poor little rich girl wants to have a good cry?”.

 

“Mmmbbbllmmm”, Lara mumbled onto his cock; “Splumnnpll... Mmmmphhhmm”, she slurped dejectedly.

 

“This I gotta hear”, said the Captain. And for the first time in nearly twenty minutes he pulled his now-glistening member from Lara’s mouth. A thick string of saliva connected the head of his penis with her pouting lips for a couple of seconds, sagging under its own weight, then it broke and fell on her pert breasts with a satisfying ‘Splat’.

 

“So, just what does Lara Croft have to say for herself after nearly choking to death on my enormous cock?”, he gloated.

 

Lara’s head hung low, her face half-hidden by her thick brown hair. Her full wet breasts shone erotically in the flickering flamelight of the tomb, rising and falling in time with her laboured breathing. After taking a moment to compose herself, she spoke:

 

“Is that...all you’ve got?”, she said in a low voice. She swallowed hard, then tried to flick her wet hair back out of her face, with little success. Slowly, she lifted up her eyes to meet the Captain’s malicious gaze, and glowering at him through matted clumps of sweat-drenched hair, she said: “I’ve sucked...lollipops...with more heft...you pathetic pencil-dick wanker”.

 

End of Part 2


	3. Last Part

Part 3

 

***

 

“I’ve sucked...lollipops...with more heft...you pathetic pencil-dick wanker”, panted Lara as she glared up at her captor.

 

But she was no longer deep beneath the placid waves of the Mediterranean sea, no longer in a long abandoned tomb where dustmotes swirled and the soft sucking sound of her lips on the Captain’s cock reverberated faintly from the high stone ceiling. Instead, the digitally encoded image of Lara’s rape--the four mercs surrounding her, rifles raised, the Captain standing in front of her with his saliva-slick cock jutting out towards her face, and Lara herself, bound to a stone column, sweat-drenched, dishevelled and panting--all this was being displayed on a wide-screen computer monitor that glowed luminously in a small, dark room in Cambridge, England.

 

The moving pictures on the monitor were the sole source of light in the room; they cast long dancing shadows over the pockmarked plasterboard walls. Crumpled clothes lay discarded over the back of an old three-seat sofa that stretched the entire length of one side of the room, and a single bed, covered in papers and file-folders, lay unmade on the other side of the room A lone figure sat before the screen on a cheap swivel chair. He was hunched over in the darkness, gaping as he watched the Captain deliver a sharp backhanded blow to Lara’s face. She spat blood on the floor then leered up at her captor, saying something that the camera’s mic didn’t quite pick up; but whatever she said made the Captain angry. He leant forward, grabbed her by the throat and beckoned to the cameraman. The picture zoomed in on Lara’s face, displaying in the corner of the frame the sinews of the Captain’s bulging forearm as he gripped her slender neck. Her plump lower lip was cracked from where he’d hit her, and a deep red trace of blood trickled down her chin

 

“Just for the record”, came the Captain’s gravelly voice through the screen’s stereo speakers, “and in spite of what this bitch just said, she was totally gagging on my cock!”.

 

“Y-yeah”, croaked Lara, struggling to speak as her captor half-throttled her, “b-but only because it t-tasted like bad French cheese”.

 

“Ho-ly shit”, whispered the voyeur in the dark room.

 

His name was Davie Davis. He was a postgraduate student at the University of Cambridge, studying for an MA in advanced computer science, top of his class. He was eighteen years old, about six feet tall, average weight, average build, maybe a little on the thin side: a regular boy next door. But when it came to computers he was a certified genius. He’d topped out every test his country’s education system had thrown at him since the age of seven, finished high school at thirteen, four years before his peers; and he’d been fast-tracked through college in the space of six months, gaining his bachelor’s degree with double first-class honours in Electronics and ICT three days before his seventeenth birthday. Since then he’d coasted, never really applying himself to his academic work. All his professors agreed that he could probably have earned his PhD by now, had he made the effort.

 

But Davie had lost interest in the quadratic equations and algorithmic logic puzzles which had until recently constituted his so-called education; he’d discovered something far more exciting: Lara Croft. Last year he’d seen some news footage of the reclusive adventuress attending a charity function. She’d been wearing a sleek, low-cut backless evening gown that had clung to her curvaceous figure like black liquid silk, accessorised by a sparkling diamond necklace and matching teardrop earrings, with her dark brown hair worn up and arranged exquisitely on top of her head. To Davie she had seemed almost unreal, like a living, breathing work of art, unobtainable perfection. He had also seen her photoshots for some men's magazine while wearing small bikinis that left a little to imagine . And since then he’d been hooked, his obsession with her purely and exclusively sexual. He wanted to fuck her, to dominate her, to make her his bitch. That was just the kind of guy that Davie was: if he couldn’t have something, he wanted it.

 

So for the past six months he’d been hacking into Croft Manor’s computer mainframe daily--no mean feat for the average computer hacker, but it posed little challenge to Davie--spying on Lara via her own network of security cameras as she went about her daily routine. The best footage he’d found before now was of Lara working up a sweat in her private gym, full breasts straining against her formfitting tops as she cartwheeled and backflipped her way around the cavernous room; or swimming laps in her Olympic-size swimming pool, wearing a variety of skimpy bikinis that left little to the imagination. He’d treasured every second of the videos, jerking off for hours on end as he zoomed in on her hot body, catching glimpses of the smooth creamy skin of her ass as her shorts rode up between her toned cheeks, and pausing the playback whenever he spotted a hint of pink nipple poking out from under a carelessly dislodged bikini top.

 

Then earlier this week, while searching Lara’s mission database for information regarding her latest expedition, he had discovered a heavily encrypted folder. To Davie this was like a red flag to a bull. He’d hacked away at the folder for thirty six hours straight, only just managing to crack the code half an hour ago. And now, as he watched the mercs release Lara from her bondage and literally tear her black and yellow wetsuit from her body, all kinds of devious schemes were hatching in his twisted mind.

 

In Davie’s position the average teenager would probably be wacking off to his heart’s content, staring boggle-eyed at the screen as he watched one of the hottest women on earth get fucked five ways from Sunday. But Davie was different. He understood that what he had here was something far more valuable than mere wanking material. To him this was a bargaining chip. To him this was leverage.

 

On screen the mercs bullied Lara at gunpoint, forcing her down onto her hands and knees. Then the cameraman stepped in front of her and unceremoniously shoved his cock into her mouth. He zoomed in on her face, grabbed a handful of her hair with his free hand and started pumping his hips backwards and forwards, fucking her mouth with long deliberate strokes. The picture suddenly widened and tilted upwards, revealing the Captain standing behind Lara. He spat on his hand and reached down between her spread legs to work the saliva into her pussy.

 

“Shit”, he laughed a second later, “didn’t even need it! bitch is soaking wet!”

 

The look on Lara’s face was priceless: furious and indignant, she tried to look round at the man behind her, clearly intent on giving him a good hard glare, but the cameraman held her firmly in place, sliding more and more of his shaft into her mouth as she strained against his hand; then her eyes went wide in surprise when the Captain thrust his hips forwards and buried his cock balls-deep in her pussy.

 

“Unnnngggghhhhh!!”, Lara moaned onto the shaft in her mouth. She was clearly trying to minimise her verbal response, and actually looked disgusted with herself for having reacted so audibly.

 

“Hell yeah!”, groaned the cameraman, “give it her hard, Cap. I wanna feel this bimbo humming on my cock”.

 

“Well, I wasn’t exactly plannin’ on holdin’ back, soldier”, said the Captain.

 

And he grabbed hold of Lara’s shapely hips and started fucking her pussy with every inch of his cock, slamming his pelvis up against her round jiggling ass-cheeks with each thrust. His powerful strokes pushed Lara forwards, forcing her to take the cameraman’s shaft all the way down her throat until her nose was buried in his pubic hair. She choked and gagged in obvious discomfort, but the man whose cock was in her mouth didn’t budge an inch. Instead, he tightened his grip on her hair and started fucking her mouth with almost as much enthusiasm as the Captain was fucking her pussy.

 

The two mercs double-teamed Lara for almost ten minutes, the Captain planting an occasional heavy-handed smack on her toned bum-cheeks as they jiggled in time with his vigourous thrusts, the cameraman sliding his thick cock down her throat, groaning in pleasure as Lara’s increasingly vociferous protests vibrated along the length of his shaft. But after a while the pace of the Captain’s thrusts began to increase; he tensed up, hammered a few more powerful strokes into Lara, then pulled out and jerked his cock off between her ass cheeks, finally ejaculating several long ropes of cum which arced and fell wetly on the soft curve of her lower back.

 

As if triggered by this, the cameraman rammed the entire length of his shaft into Lara’s mouth and exploded deep in her throat.

 

“Awwwww yeahhhhhhhh, swallow it all you fucking haughty bitch!”, he groaned as his cock spasmed in the hot wet interior of her oesophagus, pumping his seed directly into her belly.

 

When he pulled out Lara started coughing and retching uncontrollably, clearly disgusted by the taste of the merc’s salty cum. But as she sucked in air and struggled to control her gag reflex the cameraman held his cock in front of her mouth and, jerking off, ejaculated three more spurts of thick smelly semen. The first went straight into her open mouth, causing Lara to choke and splutter even more, the second splattered across the white skin of her forehead, and the third hit her full in the left eye before rolling thickly down her cheek. When he was satisfied that he’d squeezed the last drops of spunk from the tip of his cock, the merc slapped and wiped the underside of his still-hard shaft over Lara’s panting face a few times, as though acknowledging that she’d done a good job, then stepped back and continued filming the encounter.

 

“Come on then, lads”, said the Captain, gesturing towards Lara’s up-thrust ass, “this isn’t a fucking spectator sport, you know. Everybody gets to play”.

 

“Thought you’d never ask”, said one of the mercs as he put down his rifle and moved behind Lara. He spanked her hard on her tight rounded buttocks by way of greeting, saying: “Remember me, gorgeous? The name’s Hooks, Dirk Hooks. Sergeant. I’m the guy whose neck you nearly fucking broke with your fucking elbow”.

 

When Lara didn’t respond he planted one hand on her hip, grabbed her hair with his other hand and pulled her head cruelly back towards him, forcing her to kneel in from of him with her back up against his chest.

 

“I’ll be honest with you, babe”, he breathed in her ear, “that actually hurt, quite a lot”.

 

Lara strained uselessly against the merc’s superior strength, hissing expletives as she tried in vain to avoid the unwelcome intimacy of his voice; but he ignored her protests, thrust his cock deep into her pussy and pumped it back and forth a few times, lubing it in her slippery nectar. Then he pulled out and rubbed the bulbous head up against her asshole. Lara had just started turning her head to look back at him, as though she were about to make one of her trademark incisive comments, but when she felt his erection pressing up against her anus she seemed suddenly to lose her nerve. Instead, she just stared straight ahead, jaw clenched, unable even to meet his gaze.

 

“Now I want you to be honest with me”, said Hooks, gradually increasing the amount of pressure his cock exerted on Lara’s small pink asshole, “and let me know how this feels”.

 

He nudged his hips forwards a couple of inches and forced the head of his cock into Lara’s tight rear entrance. She tensed up visibly and took a sharp, deep breath in through her nose. The toned globes of her ass flexed even tauter than before. Hooks groaned, leant forwards and stuck his tongue in her ear, clearly enjoying the sensation of having his cock squeezed between the beautifully rounded muscles of Lara’s ass-cheeks. Then he grabbed her hips with both hands and started working his cock into her asshole one inch at a time.

 

“You know, babe, you should really try loosening up a bit”, he said after a while, “you’re only making this harder on yourself”.

 

Lara maintained her stoical silence. She still seemed to be doing her best to ignore him, staring straight ahead with an expression of grim determination of her face. But she’d started trembling. Her fists were clenched so tight that her knuckles looked like bone, and the muscles of her jaw stood out visibly, flexing as she gritted her teeth in pain and frustration.

 

By now the merc had worked a good five of his eight inches into Lara. He tightened his grip on her hips, pulled out a couple of inches and spat down on his cock, adding much needed lubrication to the thick shaft before forcing about three more inches into Lara’s clenching anal passage.

 

“Come on, sweet-cheeks”, he breathed in her ear, “just tell me how it feels and I’ll take it out”.

 

As he whispered to Lara she trembled with barely contained rage, clearly as disgusted by the merc’s sadistic actions as she was infuriated by his condescending tone and misogynistic attitude. Her brow contracted sharply down between the slivers of her almond eyes. Her nostrils flared with every breath she took, and droplets of sweat beaded on her forehead and dripped from her chin. She was baring her teeth like a cornered animal, her plump lips drawn back and squared tightly in an expression of pure pained determination.

 

Davie half-expected to see Lara fight through the agony and throw Hooks’ words back in his face with one of her customary witty ripostes, or at least carry on ignoring the merc’s taunting suggestions--the sexy Tomb Raider was, after all, famous for her single-minded strength of character--but when the man behind her started slowly rotating his hips, stirring his thick cock in the depths of her ass, she seemed finally to crack:

 

“Haahhhh, it hu-urts, you bastard! Oh God it bloody hurts!”, she gasped through gritted teeth, “is that wh-what you wanted to hear, you si-ick fuck?!”. Sparkling tears began to swell in the corners of her eyes as she spoke.

 

“Music to my ears, babe”, grinned Hooks, “now, sing for me”.

 

He reached down, slipped his palms under Lara’s knees and, bracing most of her bodyweight against his own thighs, started to lift.

 

“Oh, no, don’t you dare!”, warned Lara, the panic in her voice plain to hear, “Don’t you do thaaaaaaaaaaaggghhhhhhh!!”. Lara’s words trailed off in a cry of anguish as the merc effortlessly lifted her three feet off the ground, crushing her legs back against her upper body and forcing the entire length of his cock deep into her tight asshole.

 

“That’s more like it, darlin’”, said the merc as he started slowly sawing his shaft into his captive’s ass, "reckon I can make you hit the high notes?”. He began increasing the force and speed of his thrusts, bouncing Lara’s sleek, supple body up and down on his cock like it was the easiest thing in the world.

 

“Told you you was a fuckin’ lightweight didn’t I, babe”, he grunted in her ear.

 

The scene was being filmed from a side-on angle and fairly close up, so although Lara’s entire body was in the frame, all that could be seen of the merc behind her was his head, torso, upper thighs, and of course his cock pistoning in and out of her ass. And for a while it almost looked as though Lara had given up: she slouched back against Hooks’ hairy chest, sobbing as he mercilessly reemed her asshole, too overcome with pain and humiliation to even try to fight back anymore. But suddenly her eyes went wide and she redoubled her efforts to break free from the mercs’ hold, pushing her small hands against his muscular arms in a vain attempt to loosen his grip. She seemed to have caught sight of something off-camera:

 

“Oh God”, she gasped, “no, you just sta-ay away from me (nnngghh!), don’t you bloody well come ne-ear me (haahhh!) with that thing, you bastard!”.

 

The source of Lara’s agitation became apparent a moment later when Tiny stepped into the left side of the scene. It wasn’t hard to see why she was so alarmed; the merc’s nickname was indeed a misnomer: he was hung like a horse. Even Davie was slightly startled by the sight of the big man’s enormous shaft. It must have been a solid foot long and nearly three inches thick at the base.

 

“Aww, now don’t be like that, little lady”, said Tiny as he moved towards Lara, monster cock in hand, “just give me a chance and I’ll make you feel real good”.

 

He moved between Lara’s legs, hooked his arms under her toned thighs and grabbed hold of her waist, his big muscular hands almost completely encircling the struggling heroine’s abdomen. Lara’s knees were now bent over the insides of Tiny’s elbows, her arms bent back over her shoulders and wrapped around the neck of the merc behind her, holding on for dear life as he ploughed his cock into her ass; she was literally sandwiched between the two big men, almost bent double at the waist with her thighs pressed up against her breasts. She looked up at the man in front of her with a genuinely fearful expression on her face.

 

“You might want to brace yourself now, Ms Croft”, he said pleasantly, pressing the plum-sized head of his cock up against the smooth pink lips of Lara’s pussy, “I’m going in”.

 

He pushed his hips forwards and penetrated Lara, forcing about six inches of his shaft into her glistening entrance. She tensed up, threw her head back and let out a long cry that pitched somewhere between agony and ecstasy:

 

“Haaaaahhhhh!!! Noooo!! Oh my God, no, it-it-it’s too bi-ig! (gasp) Please, I’m begging you! Take it out (nnnngghhh!), you son of a bitch!”, she sobbed as Tiny started working his hips backwards and forwards, sliding an ever-increasing amount of his oversized shaft into the struggling woman. After a few more strokes the big man had managed to work about eight inches of his thick cock into her pussy and showed no signs of stopping. He seemed to be lost in his own world, an intense expression etched on his face as he ignored Lara’s protests and fucked her methodically, clearly intent on forcing all twelve inches of his impressive pole into the tight, trim hole between the flexing muscles of her toned upper thighs.

 

“Look, we can m-make a deal!”, gasped Lara, desperation creeping into her voice, “Oh, sodding he-ell, I can give you money! Whatever Ama-anda’s (nnngghhhh!) p-paying you, I’ll double it! I swear!”

 

Tiny leaned in and smothered Lara’s lips with a deep kiss, thrusting his tongue into her mouth as she strained uselessly against his overbearing presence. While the big man swapped spit with his reluctant captive, Hooks leaned over her shoulder and started grunting in her ear:

 

“You just don’t get it, do you sweet cheeks?”, he said, “We own you now. All your money, all your bullshit gadgets, and your sassy girl-power attitude? none of that bollocks matters a good fuck anymore”. As if to prove his point he hammered several extra-deep thrusts into Lara’s ass in quick succession, bouncing her sweat-slick body up and down on his cock and eliciting a series of high-pitched squeals and yelps from his captive, which were muffled by Tiny’s suffocating kiss.

 

“Besides”, he added a moment later, “It’s not like you’re offerin’ your own fuckin’ money is it? You didn’t earn it, did you, bitch? Shit, I bet you never even did one hard day’s work in your whole fuckin’ life, did you?” As he taunted Lara he reemed her ass at a steady pace of about one stroke per second, taking care to alternate his thrusts with Tiny’s long deliberate strokes, so that every time Hooks pulled out of Lara’s asshole Tiny had his huge shaft sheathed almost to the hilt in her pussy, and vice-versa. The persistent rhythm offered the poor girl not a moment’s respite from the two mercs’ combined assault on her abused and oversexed body.

 

Tiny finally broke away from kissing Lara. She coughed and sucked in air but still stubbornly ignored the questions with which Hooks had been mocking her.

 

“Come on bitch, whose money is it?”, he asked again, angered by his captive’s reluctance to answer him. When Lara still refused to reply he thrust his cock all the way into her ass, grabbed the perfectly rounded muscles of her ass-cheeks and squeezed them together as hard as he could.

 

“This is a little something I picked up in Siam, angel-cakes”, he growled in her ear, “a Thai whore taught me how to make her cum with only my cock shoved up her ass. Let’s see if you like it as much as she did”. The merc’s strong fingers sunk into the luscious flesh of Lara’s behind: by applying pressure to the appropriate nerve clusters he stimulated a reflex action in her lower body, and suddenly her anus started convulsing uncontrollably on his thick shaft, massaging Hooks’ cock rhythmically in the depths of the trembling heroine’s tight asshole, pleasuring the merc almost as much as it pained his captive.

 

“Nnnyaaahhh!!, Alright! Alri-ight!!”, cried Lara, once again submitted to her captor’s heavy handed tactics; “ It’s m-m-my father’s blo-ody money!”, she sobbed angrily, “it was p-p-passed do-own to me by my father!!”.

 

“Damn straight it was, sugar-buns”, said Hooks “and in my book that makes you a spoilt little rich bitch daddy’s girl”. He planted a viscous smack on Lara’s jiggling ass, then asked her: “What does that make you, princess?”.

 

But by now Lara was too confused and overstimulated to reply. Her eyes rolled back in her head as the two mercs’ unrelenting assault on her sleek body crushed the air from her lungs; all she could do was pant, dazed and exhausted, sandwiched between the two big men as they drove their cocks into her at a furious pace. So Hooks started spanking her ass repeatedly, smacking his palm up against her glowing derriere in time with his thrusts and leaving raw, red hand prints on her already-tenderised behind, repeating his question over and over again until she finally responded:

 

“Oh, God!! (haaahhhh!), y-y-you’re ri-ight!! it... it... it makes me a daddy’s girl! (nnnngghhhh!!) I’m a spoiled little (gasp) ri-ich bi-itch daddy’s girl!!”, she screamed.

 

Spurred on by Lara’s submission Hooks switched up the rhythm of his strokes to coincide with Tiny’s powerful thrusts. As he mercilessly reemed Lara’s asshole from behind, the big man in front of her fucked her pussy with every inch of his enormous cock; between them they crammed nearly twenty inches of thick man meat into the defeated heroine’s two tight holes; twice a second Lara was filled to the hilt by their shafts, then, as they pulled out together, she was almost turned inside-out by their synchronised withdrawal.

 

“Ahhhhhh!!”, screamed Lara, “P-please (hhhhnnnn!!) stop!! I can’t... can’t t-t-take anymore!! Y-you... you... you’ll... (haaaahhhh!) tear me apart!!”.

 

Lara’s protests pushed Tiny over the edge. He slammed into the trembling woman, hilting his foot-long cock deep in her tight pussy, and exploded. The skin below Lara’s belly-button actually bulged out visibly as the big man convulsed against her, his balls contracting, pumping so much of his seed into her body that it started overflowing, gushing out between the lips of her pussy and the vein-marbled surface of his shaft.

 

Tiny groaned deep in his chest as Lara’s mouth opened wide in a silent scream.

 

For a moment it seemed as though virtually every muscle in her sleek gym-toned body had tensed up: the subtle curves of her abs accentuated themselves as she arched her back and thrust out her breasts; her ass-cheeks flexed tautly, concave dimples contracting in the smooth plains of flesh either side of her hips; curving and swelling, the supple skin of her calves and thighs almost separated into individual muscle groups, and the whole of her sweat-slick frame vibrated in pure unadulterated orgasmic ecstasy.

 

In the throes of her climax Lara reached down between her legs, wrapped her small but strong hand around the slippery underside of Tiny’s cock, and started jerking his thick shaft as it continued to ejaculate. Before long her palm was covered in a slimy layer of the merc’s spunk.

 

“Ohhhhh, yeaaahhh, keep doing that!”, encouraged Tiny, “I knew you liked it, Lara. I knew ‘cause your cunt told me”. He leaned in and sucked hard on Lara’s breast, swirling his tongue around her erect nipple as he rode out the tail end of his orgasm.

 

“You can be my special girl, Lara”, he mumbled onto her breast, “when we get back to the ship you can be my whore and I’ll fuck you every night”.

 

Suddenly, Davie saw Lara’s hand snake out and grab hold of Tiny’s rifle, which was still dangling by his side. She lifted up the barrel so it pushed into the big man’s stomach, then, stretching, just managed to slip her index finger inside the trigger-guard. The cameraman also noticed her manoeuvre, and laughed:

 

“Dumb bitch, you already forget what the Cap said? You can’t use our rifles ‘less you got the right...”

 

But before the merc could finish his sentence the gun’s loud report sounded out like a muffled firecracker, and Tiny’s back exploded in a shower of red. Blood and viscera splashed wetly against the wall behind him. He looked up at Lara, confused by the conflicting sensory messages his body was sending him. His surprised, still-dilated pupils stared into her eyes for a long moment, then he coughed crimson onto her chest and slumped forwards, pinning her between himself and Hooks.

 

In one smooth movement Lara swung up the rifle, spinning the lightweight carbon-fibre frame through one-hundred-and-eighty degrees on the axis of her forefinger, caught the butt in the palm of her hand, bent her arm back over her shoulder and fired again. Hooks’ head was pulverised by high velocity metal slugs: the bullets tore through his skull, shattered his teeth, made mincemeat of his brain. When Lara took her finger off the trigger all that remained of the merc's head was the blood-spewing stump of his neck. His decapitated body actually continued thrusting its hips backwards and forwards for a couple of seconds, cornholing Lara obscenely as its death throes kicked in. Then its knees buckled and it collapsed to the floor like a headless rag-doll. Lara and Tiny’s corpse followed suit, the latter landing heavily on top of the former.

 

The last image captured by the video camera showed Lara’s slim white arm sticking out from beneath the big man’s corpse, aiming her rifle somewhere in the region of the cameraman’s abdomen. She fired, and the chaotic scene blurred and spun wildly, bounced, flickered, and disappeared, replaced a moment later by an out-of-focus shot of a man’s foot laying twisted and motionless in a pool of blood. Panicked shouts and gunfire rang out for a few seconds in the background, then died down just as suddenly.

 

And then there was nothing.

 

Davie leant in towards his screen and turned up the volume on his speakers. Above a background hum of artificial silence he could just about make out the sound of a man’s laboured breathing. There was a muffled thump, followed a short while later by the sticky sound of barefoot footsteps on a wet stone floor. His ears followed the noise slowly from one speaker to the other. Metal scraped against stone, something clunked heavily to the ground; then he heard the unmistakable sound of a pistol being cocked.

 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck”--it was the captain’s voice, strained and breathless--“please don’t kill me!”, he begged, “what we were doing... oh fuck, it was just... Oh, shit!! No!! Please, not there!! Just let me...”

 

BLAM!!

 

“Kyaaarrrrhhhhhhh!!!”, he screamed, “You fuckin’ bitch!! You shot me in the fuckin’ nuts!! I’ll fuckin’ kill you you fuckin’ bit...”

 

BLAM!! BLAM!! BLAM!!

 

The gunshots’ sonic waves cut short the Captain’s protests then rippled through the air like thunder; they echoed and re-echoed from the high stone ceiling of the tomb; encoded in binary number-clusters, they reverberated faintly in the peaks and troughs of the video camera’s digitised soundscape, finally dissipating in the static that crackled from Davie’s speakers.

 

After a long moment--a moment so long, in fact, that it made Davie start to wonder if the camera had stopped working--Lara's voice broke the silence:

 

“Bloody hell”, she sighed.

 

Her sticky barefoot footsteps sounded out again. They grew louder as she approached the camera, stopped, and a second later there was a mechanical click and the picture disappeared.

 

***

 

In the aforementioned small, dark room in Cambridge, England, a computer science student named Davie Davis gaped, wide-eyed, staring into the luminous blackness of his monitor.

 

“Ho-ly shit”, he whispered. Again.

 

Belied by his vacant expression his mind was racing a mile a minute. Sure, he’d already devised a fool-proof plan to exploit his incredible find, examined his scheme from every conceivable angle, checked and re-checked it for any vulnerabilities that might lead to the unpleasant eventuality of his head being blown off--that kind of thing was child's play to the precocious teenager--but now he had to decide how to run his plans   
. Suddenly a wide grin formed on the boys lips as he started to type something on his laptop .

The End


End file.
